The Unreachable Star
by Florian Knox
Summary: "...taking advantage of the properties of the Arrow, it is proposed that a portion of the Third Magic could be observed during the materialisation of the subject's soul and quantified during experimentation upon the resulting familiar- or Stand, as we have been designating them..." - An excerpt from Ludwig von Einzbern's dissertation, "What Remains of the Third Magic?"


Where had his day gone so wrong?

The intrusive thought flew unbidden to Shirou's mind as he gazed down the street, enraptured by the wicked smirk that was so out of place on the delicate, porcelain features of the girl before him.

The same girl that only nights ago, had cheerfully stabbed him. Hadn't she?

"Nice to meet you Rin, my name is Ilya." She curtsied. Behind her the gargantuan form of Berserker snorted, exhaling billowing clouds of steam like a bull raring to charge. Held in check not by chains of iron, but by the whims of his master.

He had woken up slumped over the latest in a long line of broken appliances.

"Perhaps you'll work it out, if I say 'Ilyasviel von Einzbern'?"

He spent an hour in the dojo, breathing in the way that was taught at the Ryuudo Temple.

"Einzbern..!" Rin's voice cracked as she realised the pedigree of the girl that stood before them.

He shared breakfast with Sakura and Fuji-nee. He went to school. He helped Issei with council business.

The girl's smirk became a smile of genuine, innocent happiness. "Then, I'll kill you. Get them, Berserker!"

He cleaned the archery range. He saw something he shouldn't have. He died.

Saber blurred as she rushed past him, the raincoat she was cloaked in tearing off her in shreds from the force of her acceleration. She met the colossal giant in the middle of the street, leaving cracks in the asphalt from the force of their collision.

He woke up, confused and terrified. He staggered home, haunted by some spectre out of the corner of his eye. He escaped from his murderer, back to finish the job.

"Archer!" Commanded Rin, calling her servant forth to assist in the battle. A hail of arrows pelted a staccato beat against the ruined street, unerring in their pursuit of the giant servant. Each arrow was a missile, impacting with the force of an explosion. Once. Twice. Eight times, the giant was struck by the streaks of silver. Eight times, the giant emerged unscathed. With each clash, Berserker advanced. With each blow, Berserker won ground. With a reverberating, furious roar, Berserker's pillar-like axe-sword emerged from the dust like a crocodile at the water's edge, sending Saber careening up the street and over the hill. Howling all the while, Berserker pursued.

"Emiya, stay here!" Tohsaka yelled, following the servants up the hill, "Archer, keep firing!"

"Saber!" Shirou screamed, first from the sight of seeing the beautiful girl risk his life for him, then immediately afterwards from the needles that were suddenly piercing his brain. There she was again- the ghost, the dreamlike vision that had haunted him since he'd awoken from his fatal rest. She was blurry, out of focus. But occasionally, he would catch a glimpse of her. Like a reflection in the mirror. She was a statuesque woman, flesh of inflexible marble shrouded in a flowing iridescent gown that shimmered between hues of gold and blue. Always, he could feel her behind him but every time he tried to turn, to look directly at her, static filled his vision and a wave of nausea subsumed him. Now, he could see her. Now, he could feel her hand around his throat.

"Oh? Are you okay, Onii-chan?" Ilya said, frowning with concern, "It looks like you're finally manifesting it. I was hoping you'd already be in control of it, but it looks like it's controlling you instead. That's a shame." She stood next to the kneeling Shirou, patting him on the shoulder as he doubled over, retching. Seeing Ilya caused the needles in his head to violently multiply, vibrating inside his skull as the pain consumed him. Behind her, he caught flashes of a spectral figure, roiling with mist and an unspeakable chill. Each of his short, pain-wracked gasps filled his nostrils with the taste of an electrical fuse shorting out. He tasted the sound of the far off battle. His ears were filled with the smell of his own vomit.

"I'm going to go kill your servant. When I'm done, we'll come back and you can pay for stealing my Papa, okay Onii-chan?" Ilya embraced him tenderly, her words cutting through the haze of sensory distortion. That's right. Kiritsugu. His dream. Their dream. The dream they dreamed!

As the girl walked away, for a moment Shirou saw the shimmering ghost wrapped around her swivel its featureless head to face him. Then he saw nothing, as the darkness rushed in.

* * *

The lead giant roared. The tombstones around them rattled. It took Saber less than a second to brace herself for the impact- and in that time, Berserker charged. Too fast to follow- an overhead swing cratered the ground and was seamlessly followed by a horizontal swing that left gale-force winds in its wake. Left. Right. Above. Blow after crushing blow, Berserker's onslaught was unstoppable.

And yet.

Saber met each blow with equal force. Each time their blades clashed, an explosion of prana bled enough power from Berserker's swings that Saber could oppose him with her own strength. Decades of combat had honed her instinct to a razor's edge, telegraphing her opponent's lines of attack. The resulting stalemate wreaked havoc upon the battlefield,

I cannot continue at this pace, Saber was forced to admit. With the injury I sustained from Lancer, I can only stall Berserker for another minute, maybe two, before the strain will place me at a disadvantage. Excalibur is an option- but using it so early in the war makes its future effectiveness limited, even if I do survive the drain. No, the best course of action is to take advantage-

Seven streaks of red light screamed through the night sky. Even clouded by madness, the Berserker could tell there was no point evading; this Archer never missed. Hefting his titanic blade, each missile was intercepted in turn, detonating on impact with enough force to shake the treetops.

It took no less than an instant.

It was enough.

-of an opening! Saber completed her thought triumphantly. Charging forward, Saber ducked into a crouch and slid between the giant's legs, rising and turning in one motion to deliver a cut to either side. Femoral artery: severed. Hamstring: strung. Using the residual motion of the attack, she twirled once more and delivered a stab to the base of her opponent's spine, the force of her prana burst rocketing her back to land safely in a guarded stance. Even against such a monstrous opponent, it was clearly a mortal blow. In moments, his own heart would pump his lifeblood from his crippled body and-

Somehow, the blow like a hammer came even faster than before. Her instinct screaming, Saber desperately leapt backwards, her blade rising too slowly. Impossible. Surely, it was impossible. Her blade, even cushioned by Invisible Air, was razor sharp. Yet the black giant's skin remained unmarred and unbroken. He should be dead!

The axe-blow shredded through her armour, carving a chunk out of her stomach as it passed. Had she been a fraction slower, had her blade not bled the force from his at the last moment, she would have been entirely bisected.

Gritting her teeth, Saber expended more valuable prana to reform her armour. Pain wracked her frame as she immediately resumed guarding. As it was, the Berserker had not slowed his assault. Left. Straight. Below. Each strike was a challenge to avoid in her prime. Wounded, she was forced to make concessions. No longer could she seek to return a blow- her entire focus was required just to stay alive.

A second volley of arrows streaked through the night sky, with the intention of granting Saber a moment's reprieve. Having already gauged their power, Berserker didn't even bother to block them. Their impact did not even slow him down as they splashed across the back that had once held the heavens.

Wounded, alone and desperate, Saber struggled to overcome the limitations of her injured body as the monster surged forward to overwhelm her. As her master awoke his own power, motes of golden light began to manifest around her unnoticed. She would be the bulwark that would protect her master. She was the King of Knights! She was chivalry manifest! She would fight the unbeatable foe! She would dream the Impossible Dream!

* * *

It was that night again.

The night that defined his future. The night that gave him his purpose.

The night that his father died.

He watched, a passenger within his own body, as the events of that evening played themselves out in his memory.

Kiritsugu was dying. He could not be the hero he wanted to be.

Shirou was an empty shell. Utterly hollow. Devoid of purpose.

Even a dream as poisonous as Kiritsugu's.

Even a dream that could only lead to ruin.

"Yeah, it can't be helped, so I'll take your place."

Even a dream that was not his own-

"Let me take on your dream. I'll make it come true!"

Even a dream like that-

If it could fill that place inside his heart-

"Yeah. I'm relieved," Kiritsugu smiled, as he slipped into oblivion.

* * *

"I Dreamed a Dream!" Shirou cried and instantly, the pain stopped. Stumbling to his feet, Shirou spat the foul taste out of his mouth and opened his tear-streaked eyes. Arms outstretched, the woman of marble that had flickered in and out of his perception shone with a golden radiance- as familiar to him as though she was an extension of himself. It did not hurt to look at her anymore. She was not choking him. She was smiling.

Instinctively, Shirou knew he had found another ally.

As he ran up the hill towards the sounds of war, I Dreamed a Dream fell into step beside him, gliding easily above the ruined road, its shimmering gown barely grazing the blades of grass as they entered the ruined cemetery.

"Emiya! What are you doing here?" Tohsaka shrieked in alarm as she hurled a fistful of precious stones towards the giant grey colossus. A blizzard sprang into existence, localised entirely around Berserker. Hailstones the size of oranges propelled by winds strong enough to uproot tombstones swirled in a vortex around the giant, carving large swathes out of the ground and shredding trees like they were paper.

Berserker emerged unscathed.

"Face it Rin, my Berserker is invincible!" Ilya gloated, watching the carnage unfold like it a was a play for her amusement. In her reverie, she did not react as a chunk of masonry flew towards them-dislodged by Berserker's disregard for collateral damage.

Shirou's world slowed to a crawl. Tohsaka grasped for a sapphire, but even she knew she would be too late. Ilya laughed delightedly, secure in the knowledge that her Berserker would not harm her, even accidentally. Shirou could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. He could not allow this! A hero is someone who saves everyone!

One second, I Dreamed a Dream was floating serenely next to him. The next, powdered stone was raining down over them. The radiant statue held its pose for a moment, fist outstretched where it had punched the masonry, before slowly returning to Shirou's side.

"Oh, congratulations Onii-chan! Guess you had it in you after all," Ilya remarked, applauding daintily. She appraised the statuesque woman that stood beside Shirou, eyeing her up and down with the look of a gourmet being offered a Happy Meal. "It suits you."

"What is she talking about Emiya? Did you do that?" Tohsaka demanded, following Illya's gaze and rapidly cycling through all the possible conclusions. Finally, her eyes narrowed. "Emiya- if you have been anything less that forthcoming with me this evening, we will be having Words. Right now, I need to help Saber. Make sure the brat doesn't try anything- Archer! Cover me!" Vaulting over a low stone fence, Tohsaka's reinforced body was out of sight in moments. Seconds later, a flash of lightning and the crack of thunder signalled her return to the fray.

"Please- Ilya, wasn't it? Can't we talk?" Shirou entreated. I Dreamed a Dream's stony expression was inscrutable, but Shirou could feel his own tension bleeding into the spirit. It was on edge. The icy spectre that floated by Ilya, however, drifted almost lazily through the air. It showed as much concern for Ilya's well being as Ilya herself did- that is to say, none at all.

"Sure thing! Don't think you can distract me though! Berserker is the strongest Servant, so naturally that makes me the strongest master!" she chided. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Ilya splayed her outstretched right hand towards Shirou, while the back of her left hand rested on the back of her head. She cocked one leg and lent backwards- tremendously off balance if not for the immediate support of the spirit floating around her. Holding such an ostentatious pose, she concluded: "Compared to me- you are all pathetic. Won't you give up, Onii-chan?"

"I can't give up," Shirou replied with a self-depreciating smile, "I inherited a dream from someone important to me. I'm going to be a hero. That means I have to save everyone- including you, Ilya. This is no place for a little girl."

Ilya laughed- the joyful sound echoing like the peals of a bell. "You want to fulfil Papa's dream? The dream he abandoned me to chase? How can you talk about saving me, when his dream is the reason I need saving? Silly Onii-chan. From the very moment I was born... I've been a Dead Girl Walking." As if to punctuate her sentence, the silver wraith swirled around her body like smoke. As tall as Shirou stood, the ghost lacked any discerning features like eyes or a mouth, instead having a face like a chrome-plated mannequin. Its arms, long and sinewy, were connected to its torso by audacious shoulder pads. It had no legs; its body merely tapering away into a smoky trail.

"That's not-" Shirou gasped as he was slammed to the ground. He twisted his body to see long-decayed hands erupting from the graves around him, grasping at his prone form. Straining, he burst free and jumped to his feet. However, by resisting their grasp he had only provided the leverage they needed to fully exhume themselves. Six of the Dead had forced their way free of the earth, soil still pouring from their broken bodies. All around them, more hands burst free of their graves and clawed at the air.

"We call this Mystery a Stand! It's a legacy of the Third Magic: a partial materialisation of the Soul that stands beside its master. The ability of my Stand turns run-of-the-mill corpses into high level familiars!" she explained excitedly. "Of course, they're no match for a servant, but your Saber can barely protect herself- do you think she'll be able to protect you and fight Berserker at the same time?"

There was an explosion. Not of fire, but of sound and wind and dirt as the giant leaden body of Berserker flew between them, leaving a furrow in the earth as deep as he was tall. Standing, bloodied but resolute atop the crest of the hill was Saber, her sword no longer cloaked within its shield of air. Above her danced a radiant star, bouncing excitedly overhead in celebration of her reversal.

"Shirou! What manner of magecraft is this?" Saber demanded, her tone severe. To spring an unfamiliar magic upon an ally in the midst of battle? The height of both rudeness and foolishness!

Before he could profess his ignorance, Ilya answered for him, her eyes sparkling as she drank in the sight of his servant's bared blade. As she realised Saber's identity.

"The manifestation of a Stand and the summoning of a Heroic Spirit are both fragments of the Third Magic. When the Master of a Servant possesses a Stand, the vessel that is used to house the Heroic Spirit also manifests a Stand," she lectured cheerfully. The further she got into her explanation, the wider her grin became, Shirou observed with dawning horror.

"If that's a Stand," he began, pointing at Dead Girl Walking as yet more corpses burst from their graves, "then that means-"

"Berserker! Go The Distance!" Ilya crooned, cutting him off in her excitement. Instantly, Berserker had Saber in his grasp, raising her above the ground- his massive hand pinning her arms to her sides. He did not run. He did not move too fast for the eye to follow. One moment, he was lying in a trench of his own making, the next he was just there.

"This has been fun, Onii-chan, but now it's over. Your servant is going to die, your surrounded by my familiars and your Stand isn't strong enough to protect you. Do you have anything you want to say to me before you die?"

In a torturous instant, Shirou noticedtwo things: Rin was running with all her reinforced speed away from Berserker; and Archer had stopped firing a while ago.

Then the cemetery exploded.

* * *

Miles away, Archer smirked.


End file.
